


Peppermint Mocha

by Mishafer



Series: Saturating the Reibert tag with Actual Reibert Fics [9]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Reibert Secret Santa, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishafer/pseuds/Mishafer
Summary: Christmas shopping is never an easy task. Least of all when buying for so many people, and when Reiner insists on emptying his wallet.For the Reibert Secret Santa Exchange 2017 tobear-tholdt





	Peppermint Mocha

The sports and outdoors store bustled with weary shoppers and was littered with sales signs. Reiner loved Christmas shopping in person and refused to buy online. Bertholdt however, viewed it as a necessary evil. But at least he got to spend time with Reiner.

“First up is Annie,” Reiner proclaimed over the  _whoosh_  of the store’s automatic doors.

“ _First_?” Bertholdt asked.

“She’s hell to shop for, so yeah we’ll get her out of the way.” His eyes darted around the store. “Okay, so this is Annie’s kinda place. What would she want?” The shop’s ruckus filled their silence. “Uh… let’s just walk around and see if anything jumps out at us.”

They strolled by messed displays for a minute when Reiner halted at the clothing department’s Christmas sweaters. “Look!”

“She’d never wear one of these,” Bertholdt said, rubbing the knit fabric between his fingers.

“No, not for her.” He nestled his hand up a bright red one and clicked on its garish lights. “You’d look so cute in this one.”

He frowned. “I like the one I have now.” He gestured to his ‘Meowy Christmas’ sweater with a santa hatted orange cat. “It’s tasteful. Not like that atrocity.” He pointed out another with a protruding reindeer.

“Pleeaase, Bertl?”

He sighed. “Okay.” He dug through the rack and found one of the red ones in his size. “But you have to get the reindeer one. You know, ‘Reindeer’ and all.”

“Gotcha.” He plucked it off the display and draped it over his arm. “Oh, hey.” He pointed to a rack of leather gloves. “She might like those. For her martial arts.”

“Great idea.” He thumbed through them and pulled out a pair of small black ones. Minimalist gifts were best for Annie.

Reiner’s eyes sparkled at the next display across the aisle. “Gabi would love that.”

Bertholdt followed him over. “You already got her two things. You said you weren’t gonna go over that.”

He dragged his hand across the box—a toy rifle with a set of 3D zombie-shaped targets. “But look.”

“It’s forty-five dollars.”

He waved him off. “My wallet will be fine.”

He scratched his head. “It’s your money, so go for it.”

Reiner secured the hefty box under his arm. “We need a basket.” He and Bertholdt started toward the front’s basket drop. “Now for Marcel and Galliard?”

“Marcel would love more badminton rackets. Galliard, I don’t know.”

He pulled a shopping cart front the line-up and smirked. “Piggy bank.”

“I’m not putting ‘ _From Bertholdt_ ’ on a piggy bank to him. You can, but I’m not.”

“Buzzkill.”

***

Bertholdt pulled back the bedroom drapes and gazed outside. Billows of snow blanketed the yard in a lush coat of white. “Look, it’s snowing.”

Reiner lay on his side on their king-sized bed and scrolled through his phone. “Hang on.”

“There’s drifts forming.”

He gawked at the screen. “Oh, come—really?”

He turned. “What?”

“Did I really spend that much already?” He showed Bertholdt his dismal bank balance. They'd agreed to split the cost of gifts, and Reiner had already gone neared his limit.

Bertholdt stepped to the bed. “I’d say that’s about right.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “We still have to buy for Pieck, and Zeke, and Eren and...”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’ll all work out.”

He set his phone down and half-smiled. “Since when are you the calm one and me the worrier?”

“Since you’ve been a Christmas fanatic.” He moved back over to the window. “Come on, look outside.”

Reiner got up and went to the window. “That’s some snow alright.”

“It snowed like this when we were in fourth grade, remember?”

Both recalled the frigid day. An unforecast snowfall led to a long afternoon of play and numb fingers.

Reiner leisurely folded his arms. “Heh, we pummeled Galliard with snowballs.”

“Not just that. We built snowcat and snowdog because we were too cool and different to make a snowman.”

“We absolutely were too cool to make a snowman.”

He took Reiner’s hands in his. “Look, you don’t have to try to give the best and most expensive presents. They love you no matter what. Even if you just built them a snowcat and snowdog. You don’t have to prove yourself.”

He gave his hands a squeeze. “You tell me that a lot.”

“More than I should have to. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

He led him to their bed and the two slid beneath the covers. “Come here,” Bertholdt said, gathering Reiner close. “So you don’t have to think about it too much, why don’t  _I_  make the list for tomorrow?”

“And check it twice?”

“Oh god, stop.”

***

Bertholdt sipped his peppermint mocha and reclined on the coffee shop sofa. He handed Reiner piece of paper. “Here it is.”

Reiner found his insistence on using pencil and paper for lists adorable. Sipping his own mocha, he read it over:

 _Armin: Barnes and Noble, oceanography_  
_Mikasa: Sephora, vampy lipsticks (Historia will help us)_  
_Eren: Burlington Coat Factory, winter jacket_

He made a face. “Why  _that_  for Eren? Instead of Hot Topic or something?”

“Carla said he’d be more likely to wear something from his friends instead of his mom. She’s tired of what she calls his ‘hobo look.’”

Eren called it ‘soft grunge.’ There was nothing ‘soft’ about it.

“Ah, gotcha.”

He read on:

 _Zeke: Pottery Barn, the gorilla figure (you know the one)_  
_Pieck: Rack Room Shoes, frilly ballet flats_

“So Fritz Mall or Sina?”

“Zeke’s being santa at Fritz this year, remember? And since we’re buying for him...”

“I thought that was Grisha?”

“He stole the gig from him this year. Lots of weird family stuff. Besides, Sina’s where the Sephora is.”

***

“You were right that I don’t need to get everyone the best gifts, but if Mikasa doesn’t make a shrine dedicated to me for this...” He waggled the Sephora bag, eternally grateful for Historia’s help. Though he wondered why tubes of gooey color that go on one’s lips were so damn expensive.

“She will. Drawing ‘I love Reiner’ in her  _Vampira_.”

“She better. Hey, you want another peppermint mocha? I want another peppermint mocha.”

“You sure? You seem kinda buzzed already.”

“Hey, I—wait.” He stopped as they approached the plaza. “Is that?”

A long line of children waited by colorful holiday display. Santa sat in the center in a large chair with a kid in his lap.

Bertholdt’s shoulders tensed. “Zeke? Why is he here?”

Santa Zeke glanced their direction and the two leapt behind the nearest wall by a Claire’s.

“He did see us for sure, and then hide,” Reiner said, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder against Bertholdt.

He swallowed. “Well, I mean his present is wrapped-up and I can just—” He rearranged the bags in his hand, hiding the Pottery Barn one between two others. “See?”

“We should still hurry.”

Reiner led him out and they hurried through the plaza. The mall’s Christmas music adding a rhythm to each step. Santa Zeke didn’t so much as turn his head at them as they made their way.

“Reiner, Bertholdt!” a familiar voice called. By the escalator was mall manager, Villi, and security guard, Bertholdt’s titanic uncle, Gerry.

“Oh, hey!” Reiner greeted with a smile. Bertholdt exchanged a wave with his uncle and they crossed over to meet them. Now out of sight from Santa Zeke.

Villi looked the two across. “Lovely attire.”

“Oh, the sweaters? All Bertholdt’s idea,” Reiner said. Bertholdt gnashed his teeth. “Why the watchman?”

“There’s been a rumored commotion from Eren Jaeger.” The name was laced with venom.

Bertholdt’s brow furrowed. “Eren? How come?”

“He’s upset on his father’s behalf,” Gerry answered. “Grisha got back the santa gig instead of him at Fritz Mall, so Zeke got the job here. Though Grisha’s not too happy about them being opposing santas.”

Jaeger family drama was a can of worms neither Reiner nor Bertholdt wanted to open. The previous month’s Thanksgiving at the Ackerman’s was tense enough. Though Kenny’s rum-spiked cranberry sauce softened the experience.

“Would he really ruin all the kids’ fun?” Bertholdt asked. “Just because of a… santa competition?”

Villi tilted up his chin. “Over my dead body he will.”

Bertholdt cleared his throat. “Did you get the cookies I sent, Gerry?”

Gerry brightened. “Yes. Homemade vanilla frosting, right?”

“Just like grandma taught me. With a pinch of salt and mix it with egg beaters and...” He trailed off.

A silence fell before Reiner chimed in, “Well, we’ll let you take care of this. Bye, guys.”

They waved and made their way to the escalator, both breathing a sigh of relief.

Bertholdt pointed his thumb behind him. “The vibes from Villi were intense.”

“I know, I just wanted to disappear. But now I’m thinking we should return Eren’s coat and get him a lump of coal instead.”

“He’s just been listening to too much grunge. He’ll lighten up once spring gets here.”

“He better. If not I’m gonna go all big brother on his ass.”

They continued to shop, knocking out Pieck and Armin’s gifts within the hour. Sated with accomplishment, they slipped on their gloves and Bertholdt back on his knit cap and paraded through the automatic door..

A bluster of snow hit their faces and they sputtered. The wind whipped heavy white through the parking lot.

They shielded their eyes with their shopping bags, Bertholdt saying, “What in the world...?”

“This isn’t good,” Reiner said, trudging forth and hoping they had parked on the left side.

To their great relief, they had and Bertholdt held Reiner’s bags as he fumbled to open the sedan door in the snow.

“God  _damn_ , it’s cold,” Reiner said, slamming the door shut and shivering. “I didn’t think it was gonna do this.”

Bertholdt climbed in his side and set the shopping bags on the backseat. “Did you watch Hanji on the weather this morning?”

“No. Did you?”

“No.”

Reiner slid the key in the ignition. “We definitely can’t drive in this, but hopefully…” It rumbled to life and he cranked up the heater. “Ahhh.”

Bertholdt put his hands in front of his vent. “What should we do now?”

He hummed and met Bertholdt’s gaze before looking over his body. “I know.”

“What?”

Reiner reached over and palmed him his groin.

Bertholdt jumped. “Ah! Reiner!”

“Snow’s too heavy for anyone to see inside. We have total privacy and we’ll get really warm.”

He relaxed into his touch. “Maybe.”

“It feels like you want to.”

“Because you’re groping me.”

“Hehe.” He climbed toward Bertholdt, his thigh hitting the car horn button. The abrupt honk made them giggle. “Maybe we should take this to the backseat.”

***

The snow stopped falling long enough for snow plows to clear the roads. And the next few days they wrapped and gifted presents to their recipients. Gabi and Falco’s were placed under their own tree as Colt was bringing them over on Christmas Day.

Reiner lay back and breathed in the cherry blossom-scented bubble bath. “Job well done.”

Bertholdt reclined opposite him, feet resting on Reiner’s shoulders. “Very well done.”

“Nothing left to do but sit back and—” He bolted up. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“We forgot Colt!”

Bertholdt gaped. “Oh.”

“Oh no, no, no… It’s Christmas Eve.”

“He won’t care. We got gifts for like twenty people. He’s not a little kid, he’ll understand we made a mistake.”

“But  _I’ll_  feel bad.”

Bertholdt sat up and slouched. “Yeah. I’ll feel bad too. Let’s go.”

They rose to their feet and slogged out of the tub. Too bummed to even ogle each other as they dried and redressed.

Uncorking the tub drain, Reiner had an idea. “Hey, what if we found gave him something of ours?”

Bertholdt squinted. “Like take something from the house, wrap it, and give it to him?”

“Yeah like, you have a ton of books.” He bounded into their bedroom, scanning the packed cedar bookshelf.

“I don’t know, Reiner, none of those look new.”

His fingers twiddled along the row of titles. “Second hand store. God, how much porn do you have?”

His cheeks dusted pink. “They’re adventure-romance.”

“If you say so.” His finger landed on a non-fiction title about medical marvels.

“I really don’t want to give away any of my books.”

Reiner’s arm fell to his side. “Yeah. Alright, that’s fair.” He moved over to their closet and opened it before rummaging through. “Heh.” He pulled out Bertholdt’s gold excellence in marksmanship trophy. “We could just put tape over your name and write ‘Colt Grice’ on it.”

He breathed a laugh. “Very funny.”

“Ah, there’s that puzzle we never did.” He pointed at the plastic-wrapped lake scene puzzle box on the top shelf.

“A puzzle? While Falco gets a new Xbox Live headset?”

“Yeah, that’s worse than nothing, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think we have anything that’ll do.”

“So Christmas Eve shopping?”

His face brightened. “Wait. I just got an idea.” He scurried down the short hall and into their tiled kitchen. He reached to the top shelf and pulled down an unopened bottle of whiskey.

“Are you serious?”

His smile fell. “What?”

“You remember last New Year’s?”

“He didn’t know how much alcohol was in that whiskey, he’s bright enough now. He’d love this. Oh, and we can put a little ‘remember to take it easy, bro’ tag on it. It’s the exact same brand too.”

Reiner mulled it over. It was either that or brave the snowy 10-degree weather and join the many other tired and cranky shoppers.

“Alright.” He glanced at the shelf. “Wanna spike some hot chocolate with kahlua?” The liqueur always made Bertholdt especially randy.

“Sure.”

***

“Oh, it’s… oh wow,” Colt said, stripping off the red and white wrapping paper. “Thanks, you guys. ‘Go easy this time around, bro.’” He chuckled.

Reiner placed his hands behind his head and nudged Bertholdt’s foot beside him. “Yep, Bertholdt had to reach all the way to the top shelf to find that.”

Bertholdt kicked his foot back. “Gabi, your tu—”

Gabi tore open her third gift in one long rip. “I knew it! Mom said if Reiner and Bertholdt were gonna get me anything it’d be this.”

Falco ran his hand across its box edge. “Whoa…”

She crawled the short distance to Reiner and Bertholdt and hugged their legs. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” Bertholdt said, Reiner patting her head. “I’ll give you some shooting tips too if you want. You too, Falco.”

“Well, that’s everything.” Reiner stood and hid a grimace from a pain in his hip. Damning Bertholdt’s lustful kahlua-fueled haze the previous night. “Hey, anyone want a peppermint mocha? Bertl’s dad gave us an espresso maker.”

“I do!” Gabi proclaimed.

“Are you allowed to have caffeine?” Colt asked, narrowing his eyes.

She huffed. “Yes. And so is Falco.” Falco nodded.

Reiner started toward the kitchen. “Don’t tell your parents.”

Bertholdt got up and followed him. “I'll help with that.”

Once in the kitchen, Reiner elbowed his side. “Did I mention my leg hurts, you bastard?”

“Huh?”

He popped open the top of the espresso maker. "I'm never letting you have kahlua again."

Bertholdt blinked in realization. "Ah, sorry about that."

"Why does kahlua make your leg hurt?" Gabi asked.

Bertholdt went rigid. Reiner turned, wondering which side of the family she inherited her lightfootedness from, and asked, "You want whipped cream on yours?"

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering, I figured they decided to get Galliard a George Foreman grill. Easy to make bacon on for sammiches. :D


End file.
